Start Again
by YaoiSongstress07
Summary: The world's fate hangs in the balance, but Old Snake's condition weighs heavily on the hearts of many. Snake's heart was broken by a horrific sacrifice, and many wonder if it can be repaired. Meanwhile, the world edges closer to destruction!


Hello, wee children, and thank you for coming! I don't have too much to say, other than these notes, for a reason you'll soon find out. This tale is an alternative tale to Metal Gear Solid 4, and an alternative tale to Resident Evil 5. The setting for the first half of the chapter was inspired by one of MGS4's cutscenes, which featured the first appearance of an old Big Mama.

Something huge happened to one of Resident Evil's main stars. I'll leave that event entirely up to your imagination.

Near the end of this project, Leon Scott Kennedy will make references to RE4. Luis Sera will be mentioned. I wonder if you'll be able to spot where?

Roy Campbell (originally meant to be Drebin, but he wouldn't have been suitable for the situation) is reading 'War and Peace', a thousand-page classic you probably had to read in school, ha ha. XD

Now, the reason why I can't say much is this: this was a totally random oneshot, inspired by absolutely nothing in particular. I did listen to Red rock albums while writing this, as they created perfect soundtracks to MGS4, but...that's all I can say. XD I just thought to myself: hey. This is a year for magic, limitless possibilities, and uncharted fun. I want to write what I believe in, and no idea shall be deemed too stupid to create! So aha! I pulled this totally random oneshot out of my mind!

Enjoy, and remember, I don't own smack!

_**Warning: Boy/boy couples will take center stage. If you're allergic to yaoi, PLEASE DON'T READ THIS! THAT ALSO APPLIES TO YOU IF YOU'RE ALLERGIC TO OLD SNAKE BEING IN EMOTIONAL SITUATION! THANK YOU!**_

* * *

She walked through the gates of Heaven, golden hair tousled and moistened from the rain. Eyes filled with worry, she stepped into a world of pillars, ivory angel statues and candlebras. No words emerged from her mouth, but her breathing was ragged. Pain weighed heavily on her heart, and it showed.

Onward she pressed, walking towards a cloaked figure. Her auburn brown eyes fluttered, as they usually did in times of tense contemplation. A soft hymn was drifting through the church, but she couldn't tell if it wafted through her mind, or if it was actually being played. It was the hymn of angels, a requiem to mourn not only broken life, but timeless death.

Her friend was another maiden, standing with her head bowed. She was facing a saint, silently asking for solace. Her back was in her friend's current line of sight, but it was easy to decipher her mood. The cloaked maiden was frustrated, tense, increasingly angry.

"Strange, isn't it? It's as if the angels are watching us."

The cloaked figure turned around, revealing her face. She was a young woman of twenty five years, but her wisdom was that of a forty year old queen. Lack of sleep painted itself around her eyes, and damp, pale blonde wisps had wrapped themselves around her cheeks. "I believed they were, until his heart was broken," she said, her voice grim and firm. She shut her eyes and lowered her head.

"I believed Heaven was on our side. But now he's crying, and I don't know what to believe anymore."

Her companion, a maiden warrior of Africa, fell victim to a wave of pain. She was normally akin to a curious puppy, energetic and tireless. She was now a svelte entity of anguish, torn and tormented by recent events. "I understand his decision," she said, eyes directed at the ground. Unaware of her friend's fierce gaze, she pressed on. "He wanted to protect him. Wanted to keep him safe from Wesker."

"Yeah, but did he have to be such a jackass about it?!"

Sheva Alomar stiffened, alarmed by her friend's usage of profanity. If they had been shards of the outside world, the usage of such rough language wouldn't have been a problem. But they were inside of a church, a sanctuary, a place many people revered. To add salt to injury, Jill's voice echoed throughout the seemingly endless halls. No other sounds battled against it, and it was akin to a resonant church bell. "Did he have to die?!" the Valentine asked, her voice rising to the power of a lion's roar. Sheva reeled away with each word, her heart shattered by the intensity of her friend's emotions.

_"Did he have to kill himself?! Did he have to end everything?! Did he have to sacrifice himself?! Did he have to push him away?!"_

Sheva's eyes were the immaculate, clear eyes of an owl. With those eyes she observed her enraged friend, who was not only speaking to her, but to the angels. To the world above mortals. "I thought I knew him," the blonde maiden laughed, the hood of her cloak falling to reveal her entire face. "I thought he was my shadow, but he pulled that stunt and changed everything! A seventy year old man is heartbroken, after he was forced to believe everything would be okay!"

Sheva wanted to argue against that. She opened her mouth to argue against Jill's words, but couldn't find any reason to combat her. She closed her mouth, resigning herself to defeat. "He painted himself out to be a saint," the Valentine snarled bitterly, eyes locked on her original companion-the grand statue of an angel. "He lured Epyon into a false sense of security, then pushed him away. If he wanted to protect him from Wesker, all he had to do was say something. He didn't have to be so cruel. And maybe they could have found another way to handle things."

The Alomar couldn't suppress a smile. It was a sorrowful smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Can't believe you're saying such harsh things about your partner," she said, edging closer to the blonde maiden. "Before all of this, the two of you were peas in a pod."

Jill's anger did not waver. "Yeah, but I'm also in his pod, and I watched him. I watched him as he blossomed, smiling and savoring the glow of love. He was happier than a bluebird, soaring in a sky he never thought he could reach. But now his wings are broken, and I cannot forgive the bastard that clipped them."

Sadness enveloped all of Sheva's features. Her voice was cautious, but soft and loving. "If you aren't here for the strength to deliver forgiveness, then what are you here for?"

"I'm here for the strength to lead him on. Hopefully, I'll be able to give him wings. And if I can, I won't tear them off."

The Alomar continued to observe her. "He's striking in a few hours," the Valentine said, turning her back. "He's done with the 'harvest of souls'. The Xepher virus is complete, and so is his fleet. Now, all we have to wait for is the break of dawn, and the new world will begin. According to Wesker, anyway."

"Wesker's cheerleaders have been posted throughout the city," the golden-haired maiden said, counting the facts on her fingers. "Once the sun begins its descent, they'll release the Xepher virus into the air. Otacon and the others are trying to pinpoint their locations as we speak. Nerves are running thin, but its as you said. We do have a few hours until showdown."

"Is he still breaking into the main point?" Jill asked instantly, turning right to Sheva. The Alomar stepped back, alarmed by the sudden rise in her friend's intensity. "I don't know of any changes to the plan," she said quietly, speaking as though she were speaking to a sobbing toddler. "He was assigned to the main point, and from what I know, nothing has been changed."

"Of course nothing has changed," the blonde maiden snarled, folding her arms. She shut her eyes and said nothing for a moment, then spoke. "He won't allow anything to change. He's more than happy about jumping in the line of fire. He is, after all, an old war dog."

Sheva stared at her. Her friend was a livid mother, one that had been forced to watch the suffering of her only child. "The main point will be littered with Wesker's best fiends. He'll use only his best and brightest students to secure the main point. And Epyon's going in alone."

"One misstep and he'll be infected with Xepher," the Alomar said, shaking her head. "Don't ask me how that will co-exist with FOXDIE."

Jill's response, once again, was instant. Sharp. Crisp. "It won't. The union between two viruses will kill him. His body won't be able to withstand the pressure of two bugs, and his shattered heart. He's on the verge of death now. Any more and he'll crumble."

"Leon's going with him," Sheva retaliated hopefully, eyes twinkling with a bit of starshine. "He won't allow anything to happen to our Snake."

Jill chuckled. "Wish he could have entered the picture earlier. He's awfully fond of Epyon. Maybe he wouldn't have been such an ass about abandoning him."

"Is Hal all right?"

The question was unexpected, but there wasn't the slightest bit of offense taken. "He's fine," the Valentine replied, sunshine spreading over her face like butter. Scarlet petals pierced the insides of her cheeks. "I was worried for a moment, but he promised me he'd be all right. Said he needs to be strong for his friend. According to him, he's cried enough-and now its time for him to protect the ones he loves."

A shriek struck the air as a lightning bolt. Both maidens peered Heavenward, struggling to find the exact location of the shriek's source. Before either one of them could make a move, another shriek split through the air. Several more shrieks ensued, accompanied by a flood. Sheva and Jill braced their handguns, back-to-back. "This must be a rogue batch of Xepher miscreants," the Alomar snarled, working to remedy a handgun jam. "Either that, or Wesker has decided to start the party early!"

* * *

"He isn't going anywhere. I'm dealing with this alone."

"You can't be serious, Kennedy! If you head in there alone, you may as well ask the Devil himself to dance with you!"

"Then we'll dance, and I'll ask him out on a second date."

An old legend rose from his seat, hands enfolded into one another. He struggled to remain calm, but couldn't due to the air's poisonous tension. Being inside of an office didn't exactly help matters, as he was enclosed in a painfully small space. Under normal circumstances, he was perfectly fine with places of business, but could hardly function while an enraged young cub had his back against the wall. "Let's be reasonable, my friend," he said softly, desperately hoping for peace. His words earned him the savage glare of an eagle, but he pressed on.

"You're heading straight into the bowels of Hell. Going in alone will seal your death. Do you honestly think any of your loved ones could endure your death?"

The young eagle looked as if he wished to calm down, putting his hands on his hips. He didn't speak for what seemed like an age, two fingers to his forehead and eyes closed. "I appreciate your concern," he said, his quiet voice betraying inner fire. "But this isn't about me. This isn't about my impact on the lives of others. There's someone I have to protect, and I'm protecting him at any cost."

"Isn't that how Chris Redfield killed himself? By sacrificing himself for Snake's sake?"

Roy Campbell instantly regretted his recent attack. Leon Scott Kennedy's face became a portrait of deep, searing pain. Neither of them spoke for a moment, reflecting on the words that had just been given. "The act of sacrifice is a noble act, but also a costly one," the old war veteran said, his voice softer than a feather. "His heart has already been broken once. If you take a fatal fall, I'm afraid he'll never recover, and the world will have lost three precious souls."

The eaglet was defeated, reduced to slumping against a wall. Returning two fingers to his forehead, he released a heavy sigh through closed eyes. "Leon," his friend said, dismissing formalities for the first time. "I love you as a father would love a son. Truth be told, you are the son I never had. You are also a respected hero, revered in your position, and worthy of the world's praise. I respect your courage, determination and spirit. However, I cannot respect your wish to throw your life away. I do not want another young life to end. I do not want my friend's life to end in heart-breaking pain."

The Kennedy sank to the floor, still holding two fingers against his forehead. "I don't have the best track record when it comes to this stuff," he said, referring to the field of love. "My first boyfriend was killed right before my eyes, impaled by a member of the Los Iluminados clan."

"I remember you sharing that case with me," the Campbell said, always curious and eager to learn about his young companion. "You were on an investigation in Spain, am I right?"

"Damn right. Our relationship wasn't exactly a fairy tale, but things could have gone a Hell of a lot better. Never told him a damn thing about the way I felt, until it was too late. For the second round, I stood by as Redfield swept my world away. I swore I'd never bother with this hellhole of a game, but here I am, second time around."

"Leon," Roy said, placing a hand on the Kennedy's shoulder. "you tried to pretend love wasn't worth your time, but failed. You knew the truth the whole time, which is why you won't allow love to escape. You know its something worth pursuing. Capturing. You know we puny humans can't live without it. It gives us life. It breathes magic into us. It is our water, when not a drop of rain is in sight. Once again you have found someone to love, and even though clouds are staring at you right in the face, you're going to fight. You're going to fight for the one that gives you life."

The eaglet took a minute to digest those words, then balled his left hand into a fist. A broad smile took flight, filled with sunshine that was absent from the world of Italy. "You're diabolical, Dad," he said, lifting his back off the wall. "I didn't expect you to egg me on."

Meryl's biological father, and the newly appointed father of Leon Scott Kennedy, chuckled. "I've been called things that are far worse," he said, taking some of Leon's sunshine for himself. "But if my words helped you, I'll happily accept my position as diabolical commander. Now if you excuse me, I have a few pages to catch up on."

"You haven't finished that book yet, sir?" Leon asked, his voice filled with a new emotion: bright, invigorating kindness.

"Oh no no no. Not yet. I figured I'd better get to the end of 'War and Peace', though, before time runs out. I'm not dying with any regrets."

"Neither am I," the Kennedy muttered under his breath, as Roy left the office.


End file.
